


Grandpa Mellark

by hutchabelle



Category: The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 07:50:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7968487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hutchabelle/pseuds/hutchabelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was tagged in the Everlark Drabble Challenge with the prompt “Everlark — the best things in life”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grandpa Mellark

“Grandpa?”

 

Peeta looked down into the big gray eyes of his granddaughter—eyes that reminded him so much of Katniss, the woman he’d loved for all but a few years at the beginning of his very long life.

 

“What, pumpkin?” he asked with his deep, soothing, honeyed voice. Even after all these years, Peeta could manipulate his speech, both the words and the timbre of his voice, to move everyone around him.

 

She squeezed his hand and gave him a timid smile before asking, “Grandpa, can you tell me again about how you met Grandma?”

 

The dark-haired, gray-eyed seven-year-old beauty was his daughter’s third child. She was a bit of a surprise after they’d thought they were done having kids, but the surprise had been a pleasant one for all involved. Peeta loved this grandchild in particular because she looked so much like Katniss had when he first saw her in a red dress with two braids down her back and she stole his heart with her sweet singing.

 

Peeta’s heart clutched when he looked at his granddaughter. Every horrible thing he’d experienced in his life—the hijacking, the Hunger Games, the deaths of his family members, everything—faded into the background when he felt her small hand tucked into his larger palm.

 

“Ah, Pumpkin,” he sighed, “meeting her was one of the best things that ever happened to me. Not the best, but one of the best. Very close to the top.”

 

“What were the others, Grandpa?” she asked with wide eyes filled with adoration. The two had always had a special relationship, the young, spritely girl with a serious side and the stooped old man with sparkling eyes, a silver tongue, and strong, capable hands that still kneaded dough every morning for District 12’s bakery.

 

His lips curved into a contented smile, and he bent to look directly into her steady gaze.

 

“Meeting you, for one,” he admitted, “and your brother and sister and cousins. Marrying your grandmother… Holding your mother in my hands for the very first time. Watching her grow. Meeting your uncle when he was born and hearing his laugh when he got older.”

 

His eyes took on a far-away look as he added memory after memory to the conversation. “Hearing from old friends from miles away. The smell of a freshly baked loaf of bread. Finally capturing a rainbow on canvas so the colors would never fade.”

 

He shook his head from side to side and smiled as his favorite memories flashed through his mind—the mind that had almost been stolen from him that he’d fought so hard to get back. He’d enjoyed such blessings in his life despite the horror he’d suffered at the hands of the Capitol.

 

“There are so many, Pumpkin,” he murmured thoughtfully.

 

A soft orange glow illuminated her face as rays from the setting sun lit the sky around them. They needed to leave soon, but he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to his favorite girls. He wanted just a little more time with each of them.

 

“What’s your very favorite best one? There’s got to be one, Grandpa,” she scolded in the self-assured voice of the very young.

 

He smiled wistfully and thought for a few minutes before he admitted, “Holding your grandma Katniss in my arms and knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that nothing would ever take her away from me again… Until she left for good.”

 

His granddaughter squeezed his hand tighter and leaned her short length against him. “Do you miss her, Grandpa?” she asked quietly.

 

Peeta nodded with a sheen of tears in his eyes as he read his love’s name on the gravestone. “I miss her every day, Pumpkin, but spending time with you makes it a little easier.”

 

She smiled at him bashfully and then nodded with importance. 

 

“I love you, Grandpa,” she said. “You’re _my_ best thing.”


End file.
